Skyler Clark
knows she'll have to face her past when returns to the Russian River Valley to
make pinot noir. People in the small town where she grew up haven't forgotten
her father – a country doctor turned outlaw motorcycle club president – and his
fall from grace. But as long as she keeps her own business squeaky clean and
stays away from bikers, she'll be fine.

Abner Travis sold his family's vineyard and
winery to build up his business. And he's the president of a clean motorcycle
club that does things the overburdened sheriff's department can't. He's too
busy making sculptures for Hollywood directors and quietly sabotaging meth labs
to chase a woman. But now that Skyler's all grown up, he wants her for his own.
He just has to convince her that their dark, shared history shouldn't get in
the way.

Travis is the one thing Skyler can't resist, but
she doesn’t believe they can last. When her father's old club puts Skyler's
business and safety at risk, she has to decide whether to place her trust in
Travis or to walk away. And Travis has to decide how much he'll give up to keep
the woman he loves.

Warning: Contains a dead sexy biker who will
pull on your pigtails, but only if you beg.

“Gee, thanks.”
Chevy wiped his hands on a rag sticking out of the pocket of his coveralls.
Travis picked up a tool and stuck his head under the hood.

“Care to share?
Ginger keeping you up?”

“Nah, man. I’m
not seeing her anymore.”

“Good thing.
She’s a skank.”

“She’s not a
skank. She’s a nice girl. Just not for me.”

“Care if I take a shot at her?”

Travis gave
Chevy a pointed look. “I thought you said she was a skank?”

Chevy smiled.
“Yeah, but I like skanks.” Chevy turned back to the bike and worked his wrench.
“I’ll be flush once tourist season starts. All I gotta do is post up at the
wine bar and some tipsy divorcee will take one look at me and drag me back to
her room at a B&B. Like shootin’ fish in a barrel.”

Short Excerpt 2:
“Your wish is my command.” He took off his cut and
placed it next to her on the worktable. She went for the buttons on his shirt
then, her fingers fumbling. He started at her buttons and their arms got
tangled.

“Gotta see your
tits, babe. The way they pressed into my back when we rode over here almost
made me wreck.” He extricated himself and freed the last buttons before he
pulled her shirt halfway down her arms. “I love your fucking underwear. It
doesn’t cover shit.”

Long Excerpt (NSFW):
“Unzip.”

She looked around as if she was afraid someone would see her. But
all the workers lived off site. Any migrants she’d hired to pick the grapes
wouldn’t be there for months. There was no one on the property except for the
two of them.

“You heard me.” He could hear the edge to his voice. If he was a
good guy, he’d talk to her softly, soothe her, tell her he trusted her, and
carry her into the trailer and make sweet, gentle love to her.

But that’s not what she wanted. It wasn’t what got her so wet and
soft under him. He stepped so close he could feel her breath against his
throat. It was rapid, and she looked up. She uncrossed her arms and touched his
wrists. He shook her grasp and reached around to the back of her dress.

He moved her hair over her shoulder and blew on the tiny little
hairs at the back of her neck. She shivered, but otherwise remained still. The
moment was ripe and even the birds and small animals went silent.

Nothing but stars and moonlight and them.

They were alone in the universe, and she belonged to him. She
might move on to someone who could offer her more, but he’d always have her
like this. When she’d married some rich friend of Michael’s, he’d have her like
this.

He wanted to see her naked under the moonlight. When he drew down
the zipper, he saw gooseflesh rise where the air hit her skin. She felt it,
too. He pulled the dress over her shoulders and bared her to the waist except
for the pearls and another lacy bit of nothing.

He flicked the pearls, and was about to rip the strand off. They
just made him think about how good and pure she was. She quickly reached back
for the clasp and unhooked them. He took them from her and pocketed them.

With one hand, he unhooked her bra and pulled it off her arms from
the front. Her creamy tits glowed under the full moon and her nipples tightened
to titanium in the cool night air. He bent down and blew on them.

“Goddamn, you have pretty tits.”

She just moaned because he picked her up by the arms and put her
down on the flatbed of her truck. He reached for a blanket and tucked it under
her ass. Though he wanted to savor the moment, he didn’t have the patience to
go easy. The rusty flatbed would scrape up the soft skin on her thighs.

The push-pull of his feelings when he was with her was what made
this thing between them compelling. He was always in control, except when he
was around her. He liked surrendering to his instinct to mark, to have to mate
when they were together.

She sat on the back of her truck with her dress around her waist
and her boobs almost up at mouth level. He couldn’t let an opportunity like
that go to waste. He bent down and took her nipple between his teeth, gently
abrading it until it got even harder and she whimpered. She laced her fingers
into his hair and pulled it half-loose. Her fingernails dug into his skull; he
loved that little bite of pain that let him know she wanted this just as much
as he did.

“Harder.” Her voice sounded like it was a half moan, and he wasn’t
about to deny this woman anything she asked for, especially if it was something
he wanted to give her. He moved to the other nipple and lifted her up to pull
her dress down over her ass. When he got it free of her legs, he threw it on
the sparse grass.

As good as she looked, he hoped the dress got ruined. It
symbolized everything that would take this woman away from him.

He drew back his head and stared at her. Her panties matched the
white bra he’d discarded somewhere on the lawn. And--Christ almighty—she
had a garter belt attached to stockings. The kind with lace on top.

“Never wear these again unless you’re coming to see me.” He
grabbed her upper thigh and ground out the words. “I’m going to fuck you in
nothing but these damned stockings and the heels.”

Author Bio:USA Today Bestselling author Andie J. Christopher writes
edgy, funny, sexy contemporary romance. She grew up in a family of voracious
readers, and picked up her first Harlequin Romance novel at age twelve when
she’d finished reading everything else in her grandmother’s house. It was love
at first read. It wasn’t too long before she started writing her own stories —
her first heroine drank Campari and wore a lot of Esprit.

Although, she set aside writing
fiction for a while, her love of romance novels stayed with her through
college, law school, and multiple cross-country moves. During one long East
Coast winter, she decided writing a book would be a good excuse to avoid
braving the elements. It was love at first write. Her heroes are dirty-talking
alphas, and her heroines traded Esprit for Free People. (None of them would
turn down a Campari, though.)

About Me

I am a techie and adjunct professor who just completed my PhD in Information Systems with a specialization in Information Security. I love to travel in Europe, read urban fantasy, high fantasy, mystery/thrillers, and sometimes even romance as long as it has a plot.